Shelling Life (For East Of Dnipro River) Poem by Ishmael Onserio

I see the nudging grudge of the tyrant's elbow,
Sweeping roads so clean in the sanctioned oblasts,
Poisoned air and mounting tumult from a mighty bellow,
Suffocating innocuous beings, all trampled down in lethal thrusts.
I ask heavens once again seeking for the living truth,
I look at the four corners of world seas for a reasoning,
The mighty gain in those fumes like a defiled dinner broth,
The expansive seeking has yielded to a forbidden battering.
I ask myself questions for a second time, my mind not convinced,
What's this branded hunger for, does it add even a day?
Does it heal greedy souls after the unwanted victory declared?
Foul mouths, spillage of blood and tattered hearts in that play.
I've seen brothers fighting for barren rock stumps on a summit rim,
It goes to life end, leaving everlasting scars in the long run,
The thirsting ground has thought us lessons through a lifetime,
We're never in a healing and saving course, we never learn.
The sun is winding down west, so fast than ever before,
The clock of justice still ticking, there comes a timely judgement,
The course of this living will usher life into a divine rapport,
One day when history will be written in that confinement.